Why the Leaves Change in Autumn
by Athena McGuire
Summary: *COMPLETELY REVISED* And I'm very proud of myself for it. It starts earlier, when Fred, George and Evelyn are fourteen, thus takes place (for now) during CoS. Tell me if you like or if you don't. Thanks, mi amigo.


Disclaimer: Think about it.  
  
Ahhhh…Finally, I've re-written the first chapter! You should be proud of me! Anyway, It starts much earlier than the old chapter (and in spring), but it's written much better, if I do say so myself. Sorry about the couple month long delay, but I lost complete inspiration in the whole story, and that fluctuates a lot, so don't pester me to hurry up and write a new chapter, cause then I'll end up never writing one. I'm odd like that. Moving on, tell me what your honest opinion is, and enjoy.  
  
1 Why the Leaves Change in Autumn  
  
1.1 Chapter One  
  
Evelyn O'Brien sat cross-legged on her bedroom floor, surrounded by books, papers, pens, and pillows. She hummed unconsciously along with a song on the radio, a Beatles song, Here Comes the Sun. Her fingers thumbed through the pages of a textbook labeled The American Nation, stopping at a page she recognized. Her index finger traveled the page and stopped at the words 'The Free-Soil Challenge'.  
  
Without removing her eyes from the words, she grabbed the nearest piece of paper and the nearest pen, and wrote down exactly what she read:  
  
'While Americans debated the slavery question, the 1848 campaign for President took place. Free-Soilers named former President Martin van Burin as their candidate. Democrats chose Lewis Cass of Michigan. Whigs selected Zachary Taylor, a hero of the Mexican War.  
  
For the first time, slavery was an important election issue. Van Burin called for a ban on slavery in the Mexican Cession. Cass supported popular sovereignty. Because Taylor was a'  
  
But what Taylor was, Evelyn didn't find out (at least not then), because there came a knock on her door, which swung open to reveal her father. 'Dinners ready', he told her. 'Okay, I'll be right there,' she replied, and he nodded and left. She got up and pushed a path through the mess of school supplies, out of her room and into the hallway.  
  
When Evelyn was four years old, her grandmother died, leaving everything, all her money, possessions, and her house, to her only son; Evelyn's father. This could be considered quite a lot. Blanch O'Brien's husband's family had been a wealthy, influential one since the late eighteen forties. Their house was built in 1900, by her father-in-law, William O'Brien III. It was large, three stories, and built of solid stone (as was considered fireproof then). It's front was covered in a blanket of thick ivy, all but the windows and terrace. Half of it's back was like so, half of the stone could still be seen. It was a very strong and welcoming house, loved by all who lived in it, past and present.  
  
Anyway, William O'Brien the fifth, Evelyn's father, couldn't bear to sell the very house that he had grown up in, that his father had grown up in. So, he moved his whole family (then consisting of his wife and four children, another to come) into it. This was fine for Evelyn; it gave her more room to run around.  
  
The house itself had twenty rooms, all furnished in their original antiques. Of course, there were the modern utilities that were necessary.  
  
Evelyn was probably the liveliest person to person the ever live in this house. She had a reputation for sarcasm, spontaneous burst of enthusiasm, and frequently running away when she felt like it (she always came back not long after, though).  
  
Evelyn bounded down to the first floor from her room on the third. She was still in her school uniform: a plaid skirt, knee-highs, and a white polo shirt. Once in the spacious foyer, she raced across the oriental carpet, it's softness muffling her shoeless footsteps. She slid to a stop on the smooth wood floor in front of the dining room and made her way cheerily in.  
  
The rest of her family sat comfortably around the table; her father at the head, her mother to his right, her older brother Ryan to his left. Next to her mother sat her younger sister Bevin and her other older brother, Delaney. Next to Ryan sat yet another younger sibling, Flora. Evelyn flopped down in her seat next to Flora and smiled at her parents in greeting.  
  
'Ah, Evelyn, there you are! How was school?' Mrs. O'Brien asked.  
  
'Oh just great mum, just wonderful.' Evelyn's sarcasm kicked in as she picked up a plate of mashed potatoes. 'You know, the usual: the people are the nicest, and Madame Adolfa is just a doll, but enough about me, how was your day?'  
  
'Very good, thank you', Mrs. O'Brien answered without showing reaction to her daughter's statement. 'I got a lot accomplished. Bevin, dear, pass the butter, thank you. Guess what I bought.'  
  
'What did you buy mum?' Flora, who was ten years old, piped up.  
  
Mrs. O'Brien, bursting with excitement, exclaimed, 'A wedding dress for Evie!'  
  
Evelyn, thoroughly surprised, practically spit out her milk. 'Excuse me?'  
  
'You heard me!'  
  
'Who are you, Mary Todd Lincoln? Abe (she said to her father), make her take it back! Are you aware that I'm only fourteen? Who's mother buys their daughter a wedding dress when she hasn't even graduated yet?'  
  
'Oh, Evelyn, it's for when you do get married, later.'  
  
'Well, just because of that, I'm not getting married.'  
  
'Nonsense!'  
  
'Then I'll elope!'  
  
'Evelyn!'  
  
'Mary!' Mrs. Mary O'Brien fixed Evelyn with a stern glare which she only returned. 'Do not call me Mary' she said.  
  
Ignoring this, Evelyn said (with such disgust that she shuddered), 'I suppose its…its—poofy!'  
  
'No, actually, it's very nice.'  
  
'I'm sure it is', Evelyn stared pointedly with wide eyes at her father, urging him to cut in.  
  
'Uh, Mary, maybe we should let Evelyn decide whether or not she likes the dress.' Mary sighed, but nodded. 'Very well.'  
  
'All right then, let's eat.' He replied nodding at both of them.  
  
Ryan chuckled into his milk, but stopped when Evelyn glared at him.  
  
* * *  
  
'It's too long.'  
  
Oh, don't be ridiculous, you'll grow an inch or two or three.'  
  
'Yea, yea, yea.' Evelyn stood on a footstool in front of a full- length mirror. Her mother inspecting the hem of the long white dress, that Evelyn, personally, thought was beautiful (but she wouldn't let her mother know that). It had a full white skirt, was sleeveless wit ha boat neck collar. It was backless, and three white roses hid its zipper.  
  
'Turn around.' She was told, and so she did. Behind her, Bevin and Flora sat comfortably on the bed, and she envied them for not having to stand uncomfortably on a stool. 'Okay, your done, your can tell me if your like or not tomorrow. It's late, and all of you should have gone to bed by now.' After she helped Evelyn back out of the dress, she pecked all three girls on they're heads and hugged them good night. 'Night mum,' they all said in return.  
  
A little while later, Evelyn was in bed. Her head rested on the pillow, but she looked out of the open window, in which floated the warm May breeze. She wondered if London was nice…  
  
* * *  
  
Can anyone guess what happens next? Thanks for reading this far, but if you want to make real effort, click the blue review button below. Thanks so much!  
  
P.S. And a massive thanks to Caitiy for pushing me (although she might have done it unconsciously!) to get the move on by updating. Thank you! And everybody, go read her story Fun and Games! It's good! 


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